Burning Diamonds
by Redluna
Summary: The Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge died with a secret. A secret invovling a certian Ronald Weasley.
1. Prologue

**I am sorry for not updating on this story in so long! I had no idea that people were even still interested in this until Dreamer758 asked me if I was ever going to update on this story or _My Ghost_. I'm still working on the latest chapter but here's the chapters I reworked (there are some slight changes to make the flow better) and I'll start reworking _My Ghost _soon as well, for anyone whose interested.**

**P.S-DumbledorefavoriteJam I really hope that you haven't committed writer's sucide.**

* * *

Satine, the Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge, lay on her bed panting in complete exhaustion and sweating like mad from the work she had been through. But it had all been worth it for the wailing little person that Marie was cradling carefully in her arms.

Satine held out her arms to Marie. "Please, Marie, let me see my child," She said.

Marie obeyed, handing the child carefully over to Satine.

As Satine clutched infant to her, she felt like he had belonged there all along. A sudden wave of utter completeness consumed her. She knew that in a world where the main rule was never to fall in love that she had found someone for whom she would break that rule.

"It's a boy," Marie told her.

Satine nodded and gave her newborn son a smile. "Oh come now, stop crying," She said, rocking him gently. "There's nothing to be so sad about."She began to hum softly as she rocked him and slowly the baby's tears disappeared. "There now," She smiled. "All better." She pressed her lips against his forehead, loving the feel of his soft flesh.

When she raised her head she caught eyes with Zidler and was surprised to find him watching her in sadness. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Harold, what's wrong?" She asked.

Zidler sighed. This was not going to be easy.

"Satine, you cannot keep him," He said.

Satine's grip around her son tightened instantly.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded. "Why wouldn't I keep him? He's my son!"

"Exactly," Zidler said. "How will you look after him?"

"Marie can help me," Satine said. But, much to her amazement, Marie shook her head.

"I'm sorry Satine, but I can't," She said.

"Marie what are you talking about?!" Satine said. "Of course you can!"

"No she can't Satine," Zidler said. "The child cannot stay here at the Moulin Rouge."

"Why not?" Satine said. Her eyes narrowed and her voice filled with anger. "Tell me why not!"

"This is a kingdom of nighttime pleasures, Satine," Zidler said. "It is no place for a child to be raised. And further more how will we keep such a thing a secret? Word will get out Satine. People will not want a courtesan with baggage."

Satine shook her head, even though she knew that he was right. "I don't care," She whispered.

The atmosphere around the Moulin Rouge was not one that parents wanted to expose their children too and to raise one within its walls surely meant that there was a great risk that the child could be corrupted at a young age.

And knowledge of her son, no matter how hard they tried to keep it a secret, was sure to leak out somehow. And when people found out… Well needless to say Satine would no longer be the star of the Moulin Rouge.

"Satine, please," Zidler said. "It's already been arranged. He's going to a good family. One that will love him like one of their own."

"I don't want him to go with them!" Satine snapped. "He is mine!"

Suddenly she felt fingers prying through her arms and her head whipped to the side to see Chocolat gently trying to pull her baby from her arms.

"No!" Satine cried pulling the baby away from him.

"Satine, please," Zidler pleaded. "Just let us have him."

"No!" Satine cried. "I won't let you take him! I won't!"

"Then I'm sorry Satine," Zidler sighed.

He nodded at the doctor who pulled out a needle and stuck it carefully into Satine's arm.

And then Satine's world went black.


	2. Chapter One

The morning began just like any other summer day at the Burrow. Harry and Hermione had just arrived last week and were sitting at the table with the Weasley family, digging into one of Molly Weasley's grand breakfasts. Everyone was talking amongst themselves in between mouthfuls of food.

But the usualness was shattered when an owl suddenly flew through an open window and landed elegantly before one Ron Weasley.

All of the side conversations ended as everyone's eyes darted in confusion from Ron to the owl and back again.

"Why do you have an owl, Ron?" Harry asked. "Did you send a letter to someone?"

"No," Ron frowned. "I don't know why anyone would be writing to me."

"Well see who it is then," Hermione said, motioning to the bird.

As if it was agreeing with her, the owl stuck its leg out and eyed Ron with an impatient look in its dark eyes.

Ron took the letter, surprised to see that it had been sent in the Muggle envelope style. Turning it over, he found that it was sealed with a windmill set in red wax.

His curiosity mounting, Ron broke the seal and pulled out the paper inside of the envelope.

* * *

_Dear Ron,_

_My name is Harold Zidler and I am the owner of the Moulin Rouge. If you have not heard of the place then I will simply tell you that it is one of the most infamous nightclubs in all of France. _

_But the thing that made us so well known was a young woman by the name of Satine. She was the star of my Moulin Rouge. We called her the "Sparkling Diamond". _

_However, Satine held a dark secret deep inside herself, something that only a handful of other people knew of._

_You see years ago Satine fell madly in love with a man whom she claimed was not a normal person like us but a wizard. _

_She kept the relationship a secret for as long as she could—for such things are forbidden at the Moulin Rouge—but it was eventually discovered and forced to a quick finish._

_I believed that that would be the end of things but then Satine realized that she was with child._

_And that child was you._

_I know how impossible this must seem but I swear to you that I am telling you nothing but the truth._

_Your mother never wanted to give you up but since she was a courtesan—seeing as your seventeen I'm sure that I do not need to explain the meaning of this word—I knew it would not be possible for her to keep you._

_And so I forced her into giving you away to the Weasley family who claimed to be a magical family and looked enough like you that you'd blend in amongst them. _

_Please don't be angry with me for what I did. I had no choice. If anyone had learned that Satine had had a child then the public would no longer want her and the Moulin Rouge would lose its star._

_As for your father, I am sorry to say that I do not know much of anything about him for Satine refused to give us his name. _

_I never imagined that I would have to write this letter to you since I always thought that Satine would eventually track you down herself. _

_But now I am afraid to say that that will never happen for a few days ago your mother _

_died of consumption._

_We had her funeral today, only to discover her Will after it had been finished._

_In it she stated that you were to be placed into the custody of her lover Christian—who I can assure you is one of the greatest men you shall ever meet—. _

_She also wished for everything that ever belonged to her to be handed over to you, including her title at the Moulin Rouge which means that you are our new star._

_Please come to the Moulin Rouge as soon as possible so that we can discuss everything face to face. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harold Zidler _

* * *

The letter fluttered down onto the table, Ron's numb hands unable to hold it any longer. He stared at the piece of paper, trying to digest what everything that it had just told him.

Arthur Weasley exchanged a worried look with his wife before rising from his chair and setting a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ron?" He said. "Is everything alright?"

Ron looked up into the face of the man, who for years, he had believed to be his father.

"Is it true?" He asked. "Are you really…_not_ my family?"

Arthur's eyes widened in shock and the dish that Molly had been holding fell onto the floor where it shattered although no one made a move to pick it up.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all gaping at Ron well George and Percy, who had blanched at Ron's question, focused pointedly on other parts of the room.

It took quite sometime for an answer to come but finally Arthur's soft voice broke through the thick silence.

"Yes."

Ron was sure that his heart had stopped. This had to be some kind of sick, twisted dream. He gave himself a quick pinch on the arm and was dismayed to find that it hurt, confirming that this was all really happening.

"So this woman, Satine," Ron said, "she was my real mother?"

His throat had clenched tightly and his voice was barely even audible to his own ears.

Tears were gathering in Molly's eyes as she nodded. "We were going to tell you soon," She said, dabbing frantically at her eyes, "before she did it for us."

"She swore that she would hunt us down," Arthur explained. "She said that she wouldn't rest until her son had been safely returned to her. We felt so bad for her. We thought that it would be only fair to give you the name that she had chosen for you but that man…Zidler, I think his name was, insisted that we give you our own name."

"What did she want to name me?" Ron asked.

"Louis," Molly whispered. "Louis Charles."

"And when were you going to tell me this?" Ron demanded.

"When you turned eighteen," Arthur said.

Ron pressed his lips together, unable to hold back the anger that was rising inside of him and his hands curled into fists.

"So you decided it would be better to let me live a lie all these years?" He snapped. "Well she was out there the whole time waiting for me!"

Arthur held out his hands desperately in the face of Ron's rage. "What else could we do?" He asked. "You were far too young to be told, Ron."

"I don't care how old I was!" Ron said. "You should have told me about her!"

"But you'll be able to go and see her now," Molly pointed out, trying to cheer Ron up. "We'll go first thing tomorrow morning."

"A lot of good that will do," Ron snorted bitterly. "Seeing as all we'll be seeing is her grave."

The atmosphere of room became even tenser now and Ron could sense the pity in the looks everyone was sending his way.

Hermione laid her hand gently on his arm. "Oh, Ron…" She whispered.

Ron pulled his arm back from her as he rose from his chair. "I'm going to my room," He said, his eyes on the table as he spoke.

And as soon as these words were out, he ran out of the room, tears spilling down his cheeks.


	3. Chapter Two

Christian was sitting on the bed of his dingy apartment, clutching a bottle of Absinthe to him closely, still recovering from the shock of what he had just learned from Zidler.

Satine had a son.

The father of the child had been a secret lover that Satine had had years before he had come into her life. Zidler claimed that he had been a wizard whose name Satine had never revealed.

It was painful to discover that he hadn't been the first man Satine had truly loved.

He couldn't help but wonder now if all the time that they had been together she had been dreaming that she was with the other man instead.

These thoughts made him grip the bottle tighter and he tried to banish them by focusing on the son instead.

With any luck he'd be coming soon—depending on how he reacted to Zidler's letter.

Christian hoped that he would be arriving _very_ soon for he couldn't wait to see if the boy was anything like his mother.

Zidler sat his desk shuffling desperately through papers. The Duke had withdrawn his funding in the Moulin Rouge after Satine's death so the place was in urgent need of a new investor.

He was just about to throw the papers down in disgust when a little owl came whizzing onto his desk. It ignored Zidler astonished look and hooted happily well hopping around the desk

before sticking out its leg which had a roll of parchment tied to it.

Zidler snatched the parchment from the animal's leg and unrolled it to so that he could read it.

_Harold Zidler,_

_I hope to come to the Moulin Rouge tomorrow morning to see you. I'll send notice if I can't._

_Ron_

A sigh of relief escaped from Zidler's lips. He had been worried that the boy would be too shocked by the information and would fall into denial but luckily that had not been the case.

He peered at the owl wondering how he was suppose to get rid of it now that he had finished reading the letter.

"Um, shoo," He said, waving his hands at it. "Go on now, go."

The owl gave him a disgruntled look but sped out the open window.

Zidler set Ron's letter aside and was about to turn back to his work when another owl swooped in and landed on his desk, scaring him halfway out of his wits.

This new one was much different then the one that had come before it. It was an eagle owl to start with and it eyed Zidler haughtily before it extended its leg out to him.

Zidler took the roll of parchment from the owl's leg wondering what other wizard could possibly be writing to him.

_Monsieur Zidler,_

_It has come to my attention that you are in need of a new investor and I am writing to tell you that I would gladly like to fill that role; if you were to allow it. I will come to you in a week's time to discuss the finer details._

_Sincerely, _

_Mr. Malfoy_

Zidler nearly jumped out of his chair, cheering like a madman. It was only his urge to write a reply that stopped him from doing so.

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_Thank you very much for considering to invest in my business. I assure you that everything will be in order when you come._

_Sincerely,_

_Harold Zidler _

Zidler rolled the paper up and as he looked around for something for something with which to tie it to the owl's leg, the bird snatched it from his hands and flew off.

Shaking his head, he turned back to his desk, plans already unfurling in his mind.

Everything was sure to be in order when Mr. Malfoy arrived next week. They'd even have their star back.

That is if Ron wouldn't mind it too much.


	4. Chapter Three

When Ron came down for breakfast the next morning everyone quickly lapsed into silence well shooting him furtive glances out of the corners of their eyes.

They had all tried their hand at comforting him yesterday only to have him tell them sharply that he wanted to be alone and have him flee to the sanctuary of the lake.

Ron took his normal seat in between Harry and Hermione, trying not to notice the looks his two best friends shot his way.

"I'm going to the Moulin Rouge today," He said.

"Do you want Harry and me to go with you?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron said, "I want to do this by myself."

Hermione was about to say more but one quick shake of the head from Harry silenced her and she turned back to her food, biting down on her lip.

Ron's stomach was too restless to keep down anything but a few pieces of toast and some orange juice.

He finished his meal quickly and then his said goodbyes before he Apparated off to the Moulin Rouge.

* * *

It was only a small group that was assembled in Zidler's office to meet Ron when he arrived. Christian, who had been waiting on pins and needles to meet the boy, and Marie who hovered by the desk Zidler was sitting at.

When the door opened, all of their heads whipped towards it knowing who it would have to be.

The boy who stood there couldn't be more then seventeen and he was remarkably tall; his head almost touched the top of the doorway. His freckle covered skin seemed to have an almost golden sheen to it which only complimented the rich auburn color of his hair. Underneath the bangs of this shock of hair, stunning, clear sapphire eyes took in the occupants of the room. And as he stared, the bottom of his full, red lips was instantly worried upon by his teeth.

He was almost the double of Satine.

There were a few moments of awkward silence and then the boy spoke, his eyes focused on Zidler.

"Are you Harold Zidler?" He asked.

Zidler nodded. "And you must be Ron," He said.

"No," The boy said. "My name is Louis."

The smile that had been forming on Zidler's face froze halfway and he could feel his heart constrict.

The boy knew what Satine had named him.

"Louis then," Zidler corrected. "Why don't you take a seat?"

He motioned to the chair next to Christian's and Louis sunk down into it, his eyes never leaving Zidler.

"So, my mother left me everything?" He said.

"Yes she did," Zidler said. "She even passed down her title as our star which you are allowed to claim if you so choose."

"And what if I don't choose to take it?" Louis asked. "Does anyone else want the position?"

"There are a few, yes," Zidler said. "But since Satine left the title to you I thought that it was only fair that you had first say."

Louis's mouth twisted into a frown and his brow furrowed as he fell into deep thought.

He did his best to ignore the pleading faces of Zidler and Marie, and the fact that Christian was burning holes into him with his eyes.

A small sigh, escaped from between his lips when he reached his decision.

"What exactly am I going to have to do?"

* * *

When Ron returned to the Burrow, he discovered that everyone had been waiting up for him in the living room, anxious to hear the story of what had happened at the Moulin Rouge.

It was a relief to have them all in one place—it would make telling them much easier.

They waited until Ron had nestled down on the couch between Harry and Hermione before they asked anything.

"How was it?" Molly asked, her eyes shining with concern. "Did everything go alright?"

"Yeah, it was fine," Ron said. "We just went over the Will and I found out what my mother had left me."

"What did she leave you?" Ginny asked.

"Just about everything she ever owned," Ron said. "Even her whole wardrobe, jewels and all, is mine. And…"

He trailed off, biting down on his lip. He had reached the hard part now.

"And?" Hermione prompted, laying her hand gently on his.

Ron took a deep breath before he continued. "She made her lover, Christian, my guardian."

The room went silent.

"But that can't be done," Molly said. "We're already your guardians."

"Actually," Ron said, "it can be done. I just had to agree to the custody exchange."

"But you couldn't have done that," Arthur said. When Ron didn't respond his expression became worried. "You didn't did you?"

Ron looked away from all of their stunned expressions and turned his attention the hands that were twisting together in his lap.

"I did."

Molly, who recovered from the shock of this announcement the fastest, was unable to withhold herself from screeching, "WHAT?!"

Ron winced. "I'm sorry," He said. "I didn't do it because I didn't want you as family. You'll always be that for me. But if I just had to do this."

"Why?!" Molly demanded, her voice still high pitched. "What made you _have_ to do this?!"

Ron looked up from his lap now to stare into her anguished face. It tore him apart inside to have to see her like this but she deserved to be spoken to face to face.

"When I said that my mother left me everything," He said, "I meant _everything_. Including her place as the star of the Moulin Rouge."

"You can't seriously be thinking about joining that place," Arthur said.

"That's exactly what I mean," Ron said.

"Oh no!" Molly yelled. "I am not going to stand for this! You cannot work in that brothel!"

The pain that shot through Ron at these words was incredible but the rage they invoked was even stronger, sending him to his feet in an instant, fists clenched as he glared at Molly.

"The Moulin Rouge is not a brothel!" He shot back through gritted teeth.

"Yes it is, Ron!" Molly said. "It's full of women who sell themselves to people for money!"

"So you're saying that my mother was a whore?" Ron asked coolly.

Molly froze, realizing too late the meaning behind her words.

"Ron, I didn't mean it like that!" She said desperately.

"Sure you didn't," Ron snapped.

He shot her one last deadly glare before turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

He couldn't hold back a low growl when he heard Harry and Hermione rushing after him and he broke into a run, charging up the stairs to his room.

Once he was in his room, he slammed his trunk down on his bed and threw it open. He flew around his room, grabbing whatever he could find and shoving it into the trunk.

He hardly noticed when Harry and Hermione entered his room and didn't even acknowledge them until Hermione tried to lay a hand on his shoulder.

Ron pushed her hand away. "Leave me alone!" He snapped.

"Ron, I know you're upset," Hermione said.

Ron snorted. "Upset is a bit of an understatement Hermione," He said.

"Alright so you're absolutely furious," Hermione said, "but you really should go apologize to your mum. I'm sure she didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"She's not my mum and I'm not apologizing to her!" Ron said.

"Ron please!" Hermione said. "Just apologize to her!"

"No," Ron said.

"Ron, come on," Harry said. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Ron asked, slamming his trunk shut. "I'm leaving."

From the looks on his best friend's faces, you would have thought that Ron had just punched them both in the stomach.

"You can't leave!" Hermione said her voice now shrill with panic.

"Yes I can," Ron said.

"Ron don't!" Hermione said. "Where will you even go?"

"To the Moulin Rouge of course," Ron said. He pulled his wand from his pocket and gripped his trunk tightly with a look of determination on his face. "Don't try to stop me."

"Ron, please, don't go," Harry said. His face was one of complete desperation now and terror was clear in his wide eyes.

It pained Ron to have to see his friend that way and he looked away. "I'm sorry," He said.

"Ron, no!" Hermione cried.

But there was a loud crack then and Ron Weasley disappeared.

* * *

**And so we have now reached the infamous ending line! But I have written more now :)**

**Ron: Yeah, but it isn't finished yet so back to work!**

**Draco: You should do as he says...or do I have to go get the whip again?**

**Me: -sniff-This is going to a rough night isn't it?**

**Ron: -pats me on the back-Just remeber: Its all for your beloved fans!**

**Draco: -mutters-Does she even have any of those?**

**Me: -throws dictionary at Draco-Shut up.**

**Ja ne!**

**Redluna**


	5. Chapter Four

**I finished this chapter sooner than I thought! **

**Draco: Damn it-lowers whip-**

**Me: Hah! You can't do anything to me now!**

**Ron: What about the next chapter?**

**Draco: -gets evil glint in his eye and raises whip again-**

**Me: Noooooooooooo!**

**Ron: Oops...**

* * *

Ron stood on the stage with his arms raised high above his head and forced a beaming smile onto his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

He glanced at Marie, hoping that he had finally been able to please her, but once he saw the look on her face he knew that he still hadn't done it.

"No, no, no!" The woman said, bustling onto the stage. "That ending note was _still_ off! And you have to seem more comfortable when you're playing off the audience! Remember they're supposed to believe that you adore them!"

A smile tugged at her lips as she gave Ron's cheek a firm pinch. "And your smile shouldn't look so fake," She said. "Make them all think that you are living for them and them alone."

"But that's not what I think," Ron grumbled.

Marie gave his cheek an affectionate pat. "That is why it is called _acting_, my dear," She reminded him. "Now let's take it from the top."

Ron released an exasperated sigh as he followed Marie off the stage and over to what would be his entrance on opening night.

When he had arrived at the Moulin Rouge, Zidler had given him one night to settle in properly and then it was straight on to rehearsals.

Apparently there was someone keen on investing in the Moulin Rouge and they would be arriving that coming week.

And it was up to Ron to win him over.

* * *

Breakfast in the Weasley household had been unnaturally tense as of late. Everyone tried to carry on as normal but it was hard not to notice the empty chair at the table.

Today, however, just as everyone was about to dig into another one of Mrs. Weasley's enormous meals, an eagle came sailing through the open window and landed in front of Harry.

Everyone froze instantly, each thinking the same thing.

"Do you think it's from…" Hermione said, her eyes darting between the owl and Harry.

"There's only one way to find out," Harry said, taking the roll of parchment from the owl's leg.

_

* * *

__Dear Harry,_

_I'm sorry for causing such a stir when I left but trust me it was for the best. I really like it here at the Moulin Rouge. It definitely not a brothel like Molly said; it's more of a nightclub then anything. _

_I would have written to you sooner but Zidler has me working my arse off to prepare for the grand reopening. Apparently there's someone interested in investing in the Moulin Rouge coming that night and he wants everything perfect. And I mean _everything_._

_But to get to the point, I was writing to invite Hermione and you to come to the opening night of the Moulin Rouge next Friday night. I want you guys to see what the place is like for yourselves—its _much_ too hard to describe—and you'll get to see my performance too._

_I'll understand if you don't want to come but I hope I'll see you there._

_Ron_

* * *

Hermione, who had been reading the letter over Harry's shoulder, glanced over at her friend. "I think we should go," She said softly. "I mean he's invited us personally and I really have been wanting to see what the Moulin Rouge was like."

Harry remained silent, aware that the eyes of everyone at the table were on him. Then he sighed and folded the letter up, sliding it into his pocket.

"Fine," He said. "We'll go."

* * *

Ron gradually began to grow accustomed to life at the Moulin Rouge. He fell in love with the utter uniqueness of the place and took pleasure in discovering all of the different, flamboyant characters that inhabited it.

He befriended the dancers and other entertainers who called him _mignon ange_**(1)**and helped him through the more difficult parts of his routine, laughing when he would start stumbling over his own two feet.

And he didn't so much as discover the Bohemians as they discovered _him_. Toulouse would drag him off to his apartment on every night that he could worm him away from Zidler. Said apartment was connected to Christian's through a hole in the floor but when Ron had asked after it they had told him it was a long story and left it at that.

Ron loved the nights spent in the apartment where Toulouse would whip up an enormous spread of food for them all to share, prattling on about the Bohemian's passionate beliefs in truth, beauty, and, most importantly, love, well keeping Ron's glass ever full with his assortment of wines.

As the night progressed, Ron would be able to charm Satie out of playing his kooky melodies and into the melodies of the various musicals Ron knew. And sometimes, if Ron was lucky, the Narcoleptic Argentinean—he never would say what his real name was— would stay conscious long enough to tell him stories about his country.

But Ron's favorite part came when the night began to reach its end and everyone began to wind down.

Satie's melodies would begin to get softer and softer as the musician started to nod off. The Argentinean would be dozing in the place where he had most recently fell down and Toulouse would have headed out to the terrace to indulge in his favorite drink of Absinthe.

It was then that Christian would gather Ron up besides him on the couch and he would tell the boy everything he could ever want to know about his mother. Night after night, he told the story of him and Satine, which he said had been her dying wish.

It was one of these times now, on the night before the reopening was to occur. Christian had Ron wrapped up in his arms, one of his hands trailing affectionately through the boy's hair, as he finished telling the latest installment of the story. This time, the Duke—a man who Ron had come to loathe with a passion—had discovered that Satine loved Christian and was horribly jealous. He had insisted that the ending to Christian's play be changed, since it was really the story of his love for Satine, so that the courtesan would choose the maharajah—or rather the Duke.

Therefore, Satine, for the sake of the play, would finally sleep with the Duke so that he would agree to keep the ending as it was.

Needless to say, Ron was extremely discontented when Christian finished this part of the story.

"But that's terrible!" He said. "How can she sleep with him when she loves someone else?"

"Your mother was a brilliant actress," Christian sighed.

Ron stilled at this for it reminded him of what tomorrow night would bring. "Do you think I can ever be as good as her?" He asked softly.

Christian smiled and his arms tightened comfortingly around Ron. "You already are, Ron," He said. "You already are."

* * *

**1-If the translation device on my computer is to be trusted then this name means something along the lines of _sweet/cute angel_.**


	6. Chapter Five

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* * *

**

I am so sorry that it took me so long to update on this story. A rather personal event happened that shattered by urge for writing by leaving me rather hollow and then I had exam week to get through (I still have on more day left). I hope you can forgive me for the lack of update -bows-.

**I am going to up the rating on this story, however, because Satine was a courtesan after all and now that Ron has taken her place that does entile him to have to do certian...things...*coughs with a blush*. I have no idea where that will feature, though, but I'll make sure to warn you ahead of time.**

**Now that is out of the way, please enjoy the chapter! It was hard as hell to write but defintely worth it.**

* * *

Draco was hardly paying attention to Zidler, who was babbling away enthusiastically at his side. The table that the man had chosen for their business transaction provided an excellent vantage point of the extravagant club and Draco was determined to use that to his advantage.

When he had announced his investment plans to his parents, Lucius had turned up his nose in disgust, but Narcissa, who had been the one that had filled Draco's head with stories of the place as a child, had been thrilled with the idea and refused to allow her husband to reject the idea.

Draco was examining some very…_interesting_…paintings that decorated the walls of the club when something that Zidler said caught his attention.

"Our Burning Diamond will be making his grand debut tonight as well, of course."

Draco turned his full attention on Zidler now for he, like many others, had heard the rumors concerning the person who was to be the replacement for the star of the Moulin Rouge. It had been hard for him to believe any form of gossip to be credible, however, and had been anxious to see for himself what the new star was like.

"And will I be allowed to meet this diamond later?" Draco asked.

"I'm glad you asked," Zidler replied, eyes glittering impishly. "After his number, I have arranged for you to have a private meeting with him. I am quite sure that you will find our little treasure quite to your liking."

"I have no doubt of it," Draco said, his trademark smirk already growing on his lips. He had the feeling that this was going to be a night to remember.

* * *

Louis winced, sucking his breath in sharply, as Marie tugged the strings of his costume harder. "Can't you loosen it a bit?" He asked. "I can hardly breathe!"

"You'll get use to it soon enough," Marie assured. She tied the strings into a firm knot—ignoring the gasps that she got as a result—then patted him on the back. "Come over to the mirror, now. Its time to see how you look."

"After all I had to go through," Louis grumbled, "I better look damn good." He let Marie led him over to the full length mirror, but when he stared into the glass, he hardly recognized himself.

Numerous hair extensions had been clipped into his hair to give it the proper length for an elegant bun with a single tendril wound into a delicate sausage curl to caress the side of his face.

If he angled his head just right, he could see the special hairpin that Zidler had given him for his debut. It was fashioned out of gold with flashing red diamonds inlaid around its circular shape.

He could hardly believe that he could actually pull off the outfit that Marie had designed for him, but was unable to stop from feeling proud that he did.

The bodice, which was made out of a silky red fabric, was done up in a corset style with slim golden strings winding tightly together up the back. There wasn't much for a bottom except for thin strips of golden fabric covered with glittering ruby rhinestones, just barely brushing over the top of his kneecaps.

The garment threw the curves that he had never known existed into sharp relief and his long legs seemed more slender than he remembered.

All together, it created a deceptively feminine and highly alluring appearance.

Marie appeared behind him in the mirror with a soft smile. "You look perfect, Louis," She said. "Your mother would have been proud of you."

Louis was unable to withhold the enormous, proud smile that spread across his lips. "Do you really think so?" He asked.

"Of course I do," Marie said. "There is nothing for you to be nervous about, my love. You were born for the stage, just like your mother before you."

Louis spun around, gathering the woman up into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Marie," He said.

"You're very welcome, darling," Marie smiled, returning the hug warmly. When he released her, however, she gave him a wink. "Now go out there and steal their hearts away."

* * *

Draco trailed his finger around the rim of his wineglass, staring with vacant eyes at the rather unique version of the cancan that was being performed. It seemed more like some sort of lap dance than the actual routine in his opinion.

Unlike the other men that had flocked down to the dance floor, Draco found the whole thing rather tedious. After all, he had not come here to see a bunch of dancers flashing their skirts up in his face. No, what he wanted to see was…

The music came to an abrupt end, every light in the house dimming down until the place had been reduced to a state of semidarkness.

The lull of boredom that Draco had slid into instantly shattered, his eyes darting around like the rest of the audience to see what had caused the sudden change.

Their questions were answered a mere second later when the red beam of a spotlight turned their attention towards the small platform a little ways off from the main dance floor, on which there now stood a person that Draco was certain had not been there before.

The person had a top hat perched upon their head, making it impossible to make out their features, but then the head began to move slowly upwards, revealing a face of indescribable beauty.

A slender hand, encased in a tiny glove of black leather, pressed against plush lips, blowing a kiss out to the onlookers.

The band came to life with a loud crashing melody and the lights were thrown back on, causing Draco to nearly jump out of his seat as it snapped him out of his trance.

He turned his attention back towards the platform where he was certain that the Burning Diamond had made his appearance.

The diamond was fixing his hands on his hips now, staring out at his avid spectators with a coy expression as he began to sing.

_"I'll meet you in the red room_

_Close the door and dim the lights_

_I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right."_

The crowd broke out with loud cheers and applause, realizing that the star of the show had arrived.

The diamond flashed them a brilliant smile in return, seeming to enjoy their fervent response.

_"So draw your sword, be my king_

_Let your passions rise and sing_

_Just show the diamonds and I'll let you wear my ring."_

He began to move down the little set of stairs that led off the platform and the crowd swarmed, kept in check by various members of the company.

_"So, just lay down beside me, let us consummate_

_I know your bursting, let me help you deflate_

_If you want to plug-in for a high voltage connection_

_Show me cold, hard cash and I will turn on my affection."_

The last line seemed to have a profound effect on the onlookers, Draco noticed, for the men were starting to searching rapidly for their wallets, pulling out handfuls of money to wave at the man who was making his way towards them.

It appeared that the diamond noticed as well for he let out a twinkling laugh and snatched the bills from their hands, leaning in flirtatiously as he did so.

_"Do you wanna help out?_

_I'll let you…_

_Just a little…"_

Draco couldn't stop his eyes from narrowing as he watched the diamond play off the crowd, tilting towards them just enough to let their hands graze his body before pulling playfully away from them.

He forced the petty jealousy from his mind, however, by reminding himself that it would be _him_ that would be joining the diamond later, not any off those fools on the dance floor.

_"So don't hesitate, I won't kiss and tell_

_No need to worry 'cuz I'm…I'm a professional_

_The show can start when I see money on the table_

_I've an empty space to fill; I'm willing if you're able."_

The diamond seemed to be strutting through the crowds with a purpose now, making his way over to the tables that surrounded the dance floor.

_"Meet you in the red room_

_Close the door and dim the lights_

_I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right_

_So draw your sword, be my king_

_Let your passions rise and sing_

_Just show me the diamond and let you wear my ring."_

The diamond made his way down the aisle before the tables, grabbing the gifts that were offered towards him and blowing teasing kisses out towards his public.

Draco had been right, however, when he thought that the star had a purpose to his walk for he was standing before the blond man a few seconds later with a wicked smile on his face.

The diamond leaned in towards Draco, letting his lips fall against the other man's ear, and Draco found that it was impossible for him to respond. He had been struck dumb by the appearance of the gorgeous star and now that they were to face, he found that there was something strangely familiar about that stunning face.

Any thoughts on who the mysterious beauty maybe, however, fled from his mind when he heard the words that where whispered into his ear.

_"I'll let you wear my ring."_

Draco could feel the heat flooding through his veins as the diamond pulled away, winking at him in delight.

"Meet me in the red room," He whispered.

He turned back to the crowd before Draco had a chance to respond to him, that playful smile back on his lips.

"I'm afraid I've made my choice," He announced, gesturing his arm out towards Draco.

The crowd released a sigh of disappointment and Draco's lips curled up into a pleased smirk at their jealousy.

He rose from his seat as the music for the next dance began to pick up and took the hand that was still outstretched to him, laying a gentle kiss upon it.

"You choose your partner well," He murmured, voicing dripping with seduction as he led the diamond towards the dance floor.

"I know," The diamond replied with a mischievous smile. "I have excellent taste."

* * *

**Hm...I wonder when Draco will figure out just who "the diamond" really is -giggles-. The song that Ron sings for this chapter is called "Meet Me in the Red Room", which I thought was rather fitting for the Moulin Rouge. **


End file.
